


Sweet Understanding

by ESawyer



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Broadway AU, Disapproving Family, Kevin and Connor are actors, M/M, little shop of horrors - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESawyer/pseuds/ESawyer
Summary: Kevin Price had always been the lead until Connor McKinley had walked into his life and stole a role that was rightfully his.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 25
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An anon sent me this prompt, I told myself I wasn't going to write it. Here we are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this idea from an anon on tumblr and it was meant to be a one chapter thing but here we are I guess

Kevin Price did not believe in second best. He had never been allowed to believe that he could settle for something as disappointing as second best. Anything that wasn’t the best of the best was useless. 

So when he was seventeen and told his extremely Mormon parents that he would be skipping out on his mission in favour of musical theatre, they didn’t take it well. But he wasn’t stupid, he had known that the news wouldn’t be met with words of encouragement, so he had made a quite detailed powerpoint on _why_ he should pursue muscial theatre and why it wasn’t just some stupid extra curriculur he did at school. 

It had, of course, worked because everything that Kevin did worked out for him. He had never failed at anything in his life - any essay he ever wrote was better than the best, he had never gotten below 99% on a test and he had gotten both valedictorian _and_ prom king. And although he acted like it was, getting accepted into the University of Michigan’s theatre programme was not that much of a shock. It made _sense_ because Kevin Price always got what he wanted. 

He knew that neither his mom nor his dad approved of his career aspirations. His mom would sometimes casually mention corporate jobs that his uncles could get him, and his dad would mutter cruel comments under his breath (cruel comments that only got worse when Kevin eventually came out to them when he was nineteen), but he never let it bother him because he had a goal, he had a _dream_ and he wasn’t going to stop until he finally made it to the night of his Broadway debut. 

Despite their obvious disappointment in their son, Mr and Mrs Price still expected him to be the best, so Kevin would never play anything less than the lead, thank-you very much. 

He had left university with more leading roles under his belt than any of his other classmates but with enough supporting roles to not make anyone hate him too much. And that could only mean one thing: he’d be on Broadway within weeks. 

Only, it didn’t quite go that way. 

A year after graduating, Kevin found himself working a seemingly dead end job at the shittiest coffee shop in New York. He couldn’t even get a job at _Starbucks,_ so what made him think that he’d be able to get to _Broadway?_

An aspiring Broadway actor working in a coffee shop to pay bills was his worst nightmare, and he found himself living it. Even worse, it was a coffee shop slap bang in the middle of Broadway and was constantly tortured by Broadway actors coming into the shop to get their daily coffee before the matinee that Kevin would have done anything to perform in. 

“I can’t believe you turn up to work in _those_ every day,” 

Kevin stared at his manager, not really appreciating her snapping at him the moment he stepped foot into the shop. 

“What?” he asked. 

“ _Crocs_ ,” she said with an unreasonable amount of venom, “You come to work wearing _crocs_ with _socks_ ,” 

Kevin pouted and looked down at his black crocs. He had purposely bought black ones because they were the most professional ones. 

“I’m on my feet all day,” Kevin said, “Sneakers hurt,” 

“I hate them,” his manager said, “I really, really hate them. You’re staying behind the counter all day,” 

“I like them,” Kevin mumbled, “They’re comfortable,” 

“Beauty is pain, Pricey,” 

“Please never call me that again,” 

“No can do, Pricey,” 

Kevin glowered and stomped over to the staff room, dropping his bag to the floor pulling his apron over his head. One day, when he finally got his lead role on Broadway, he was going to hold a party specifically to burn the apron. 

His day passed slowly, as it always did. There had been a brief moment where he thought that maybe the regular that he had a secret, mortifying crush on was going to ask for his number when their hands lingered in the passing over of the change, but then he just had to go and sit down and kiss his boyfriend, reminding that Kevin had neither a lead role on Broadway _or_ a boyfriend.

Not that he could have _any_ boyfriend, of course. His parents might have been somewhat homophobic, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t expect him to marry an upstanding gentleman, preferably from Salt Lake City or Provo, at the very least. And he knew nothing about his crush except that he was called Daniel and liked his cappuccino with a bit too much chocolate. He would probably have to marry someone with a real job, because “ _acting isn’t a real job, Kevin. You just get paid for prancing around a stage,”._

He scowled as his father's voice boomed throughout his brain, not so much because it was insulting to his dream job, but because he wasn’t even being paid to prance around a stage. 

Finally, his shift ended and he ripped the apron from around his neck and shovelled it into his locker. He didn’t bother to wait around for his other co-workers and swap weekend plans (Kevin was going to lie on his sofa, accompanied by his best friend, roommate and co-worker Arnold for two whole days), he just yelled a quick, " _See ya!_ ” and bolted all the way to the subway. 

“Hey, best friend!” Arnold said cheerfully from where he was sat at their tiny dining room table, scribbling furiously in a notepad. 

“Hey bud,” Kevin said, kicking his crocs off and looking down at them, “Are my crocs ugly?” 

“No. I like them,” 

Kevin brightened and wandered over to him, “Whatcha writing, Shakespeare?” 

“I’m re-writing the Book of Mormon as a play!” he said happily. 

Kevin stared down at him, his eyebrows raised. He and Arnold had met in college; they didn’t share a dorm at first , but lived on the same floor and spent so much time together, they ended up swapping dorms halfway through the year to live together. Arnold being a creative writing major had made them the perfect friends; Kevin could usually convince the theatre department to put on whatever bizarre play Arnold had written, and he always got the leading role. 

“And you’re doing that because...?” 

Arnold shrugged, “Felt like a good idea at 3 o’clock this morning. I don’t think it is, _but_ loads of people thought that Harry Potter was a bad idea before it got published. And now there’s a whole play about it!”

“I don’t think anybody would go and see a show about the Book of Mormon,” Kevin said. 

“Well, not the Book of Mormon as _we_ know it, but this one,” he held up his notepad and waved it around a bit, “ _loooads_ of people would. See, Moroni isn’t a angel here,” 

“What is he?” Kevin asked anxiously. 

“A Wizard!” Arnold said, “The Great Wizard Moroni!” 

“Cool,” Kevin said, clapping him on the back, “sounds fun,” 

“I know, right?” Arnold grinned, “I’m gonna put it forward for loads of competitions. Who knows? Someone might pick it up,” 

“Hope so,” Kevin said, “if you need a leading man, you know where I am!” 

Leaving Arnold to write his best-worst idea yet, Kevin walked into his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed, stretching his arms above his head and pulling his phone out of his pocket. His mind wandered aimlessly, wondering what he should make for dinner and if he should book some time off work soon when he got an email from his agent. 

He gasped and jerked up, his phone very nearly flying out of his hand. 

“Little Shop of Horrors,” he whispered to himself, “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my - Arnold! _ARNOLD!”_

Squealing like a teenage girl, Kevin burst out of his bedroom and back into the kitchen, skidding along to the floor to a very concerned looking Arnold. 

“What’s up bud?”

“Little Shop of Horrors, Arn! Little Shop of _fucking_ Horrors!” 

Arnold stared at him, “Uh...your favourite film? Is it like...on TV or something?” 

“No, no,” Kevin said, jumping up and down, “I have an audition! For _Seymour,_ off-broadway!” 

Arnold gasped, “When is it? Do you need me to cover a shift for you?”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Kevin asked anxiously.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Arnold said hurriedly, “I’ll cover for you,” 

That night when Kevin was lay in bed, his imagination ran ahead of him; he was going to nail the audition, get cast as Seymour, absolutely _kill_ it every night, get rave reviews from both audience and critics, be the sole reason the production transfers to Broadway, continue to kill it on Broadway, get nominated for a Tony and then, of course, win. His acceptance speech would be the perfect mix of humble surprise and pride. 

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, imagining a Tony in one hand and maybe even a boyfriend in the other. 

* * *

“ _Standby?_ ”

“No, I know-”

“Standby, Kevin, really? What does a standby even _do?”_

Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose as his very disappointed mother sighed down the phone. He should have known better than to take the job. 

“I cover for the lead,” Kevin said, “So, I’ll still go to theatre every day and sit backstage and-”

“Oh, so you won’t be doing _anything_?”

“I’ll - I’ll be on sometimes. It just depends when the lead is out and-” 

“Ridiculous, Kevin,” she snapped, “Your father and I had hoped that something would come of this stupid hobby of yours,” 

He clenched his jaw and lay back with his head in Arnold’s lap, his eyes flickering up to meet his best friends. 

“It’s okay,” Arnold whispered. 

Kevin shook his head, “I know it isn’t ideal but - the guy who...the guy who got the part, he’s got a bit more experience than me so-”

“Who is it?” his mom asked, “Anyone we know?” 

“No, I don’t think so. He’s just been in a few shows,” Kevin said, “Look, I’ll probably have scheduled performances so when I find out when they are you and dad can come and see me,” when there was no reply, Kevin frowned, “You - You will come and see me, won’t you? It’s my first professional job,” 

“We’ll see,” was all she said before the line went dead. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kevin groaned, dropping his phone to his chest and covering his face with his hands, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” 

“You’re alright, Kev, you’re alright,” Arnold said gently, “I know it’s not ideal and you prefer to be the lead but...you never know what this’ll lead to! This Colin guy-”

“Connor,” 

“Whatever his name is, might get injured or fired or you might get promoted to lead!” Arnold said encouragingly, “Being standby isn’t the end of the world,” 

“No,” Kevin muttered, jumping up from the sofa and stomping over to his bedroom, “it’s worse,” 

* * *

Kevin Price did not like Connor McKinley. 

He was as obnoxious as his bright red hair, and smiled too much for it to be genuine. He had only ever been in the ensemble - Cats, Les Mis, Wicked, to name a few - and was _so very happy_ that his first lead role was Seymour, and that he hoped that he could do it justice. 

Kevin felt like he would do the role justice by leaving the production, but never voiced his opinion. Being second best was a lot harder than he had anticipated. 

Every day at rehearsal, he turned up with a basket of food for the cast and waved off any money that people tried to give him; “Don’t be silly!” he’d say with a giggle, “I don’t mind!” 

Kevin had hoped that by the time they had moved into the theatre and gotten a few performances under their belt, he’d be bearable but he had no such luck. He was still annoying, still smiley and _still_ brought food in for the cast.

“Hey, Kevin!” 

“Hi, Connor,” he muttered, trying his best to not glare too much when he walked into the standby dressing room to find Connor sitting at _his_ dressing table. He was talking to David - who was the standby Audrey II - and who Kevin liked, just not when he was being so friendly with Connor. 

“I got food for you,” he said, gesturing over at a basket of fresh pastries. 

“I’ve already eaten, thanks,” he said, just as his stomach grumbled. 

Connor raised his eyebrows at him, “Maybe you should eat a bit more,” 

_Maybe you should fuck off,_ Kevin thought to himself. 

“I have cereal,” Kevin said, “only I can’t get it if you carry on sitting in my seat,” 

“What? Oh! Sorry, hon!” Connor laughed, jumping up from his seat. 

“Please don’t call me hon,”

“Sorry, ho- _oop_ , nearly did it then!” he snorted, “it’s just a reflex,”

Kevin didn’t bother to even pretend to laugh. He snatched his cereal up and poured it into a bowl. It was two days out of date and stale, but he wasn’t going to give Connor the satisfaction of eating his stupid croissants. 

“You know, you really are the stereotype of a standby hating the lead,” David said lightly when Connor had skipped off to warm up. 

“I don’t hate him because he’s the lead,” Kevin muttered, pushing his stale cereal away from him, “I just don’t like him because he’s annoying,” 

“He only brings food to us because of you,” David said, pushing a croissant over to him. 

“Why, because he has a crush on me?” Kevin said sarcastically, begrudgingly taking the croissant off him. 

David doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with raised eyebrows. Kevin tutted and dropped his croissant to the table with a roll of his eyes. 

“You talk about me sterotyping standbys but you’re here stereotyping gay men! Just because both Connor and I happen to be gay doesn’t mean he has a crush on me!” Kevin exclaimed, “What you’re doing is frankly homophobic and-” 

“I have a husband, Kevin,” 

Kevin pressed his lips together and then looked away from him, “Connor doesn’t have a crush on me,” 

“Sure he doesn’t,” David snorted, “I hope you have a good excuse to not want to go out with him when he asks,” 

“What? Is he - is he going to ask me out?” Kevin asked, turning to face him again. 

David laughed, “Why? Do you secretly want him to?”

“No,” Kevin snapped, “I don’t. If he asks me out, I’m saying no,” 

“I didn’t like my husband when I first met him,” 

“Wasn’t that because he kicked you out of his bar?”

“Yeah,” David grumbled, “The fucking dick. I mean, since when is dancing on tables not allowed in bars?”

“Well it’s different for you and your husband,” Kevin muttered. 

“Sure,” 

When the show was happening, Kevin usually put headphones on and tried his best to not listen to what was happening on the stage. That day, however, he was forced to listen to David sing “Suddenly Connor” at the top of his voice 

_“Suddenly Connor, is standing beside you, don’t need no croissants, don’t have to pretend-”_

Kevin groaned and put his head in his hands; there were days when he was sure that Heavenly Father existed and that he was working very hard to make Kevin’s life a living hell. 

* * *

Kevin ran around the apartment like a headless chicken, trying his very best to make it as Price Friendly as possible. He grabbed Arnold’s strange Book of Mormon play off the kitchen table and shoved it into his hands, snapping at him to hide it. 

“I don’t like it when your parents come over,” Arnold muttered. 

“Join the fucking club,” Kevin said, launching himself over the back of the sofa and snatching a pride flag from the wall because God forbid he was _too_ proud of his sexuality.

“I like the flag, it brightens the place,” Arnold said, watching as Kevin threw it into his bedroom. 

“First of all, that isn’t the point of a pride flag. Second of all, to my parents it damns me to Hell and I’m trying to make them forget that I’m gay,” Kevin said, his eyes scanning the room to make sure that everything was as heterosexual as possible.

“Kev...” Arnold sighed, putting his hands on his shoulder and looking him dead in the eye, “ _Nothing_ will ever make anyone forget that you’re gay. You’re extremely camp and there’s a poster of Pattie Lupone next to a poster of Barbra Streisand next to a picture of Bette Midler over there,” 

Kevin tutted and swatted Arnold’s arms away, “I’m not camp and there is nothing wrong with my posters! They’re all icons and-”

“Gay icons,”

“-and I’m not taking them down!” Kevin exclaimed, “That would be blasphemy!”

“You know what else is blasphemy?” 

“Say sucking dick and I’m going to punch you,” 

Arnold scowled, “You always ruin my jokes!”

“Don’t make any jokes about me sucking dick in front of my parents, alright?”

“It’s not really a joke if you actually-”

“ _Arnold!”_

“Sorry,” 

“Also don’t...don’t mention the fact that I’m um...that I’m not in the show tonight,” Kevin muttered sheepishly. 

Arnold frowned at him, “Did you - did you tell them that you’re on tonight?” 

Kevin felt himself blush, “It was the only way that I could get them up here! Connor could still call out!” 

“What happens when he doesn’t?” Arnold asked impatiently. 

“I still have tickets for tonight so I’ll just watch with them! And I haven’t actually seen it yet so...it’ll be fine, I’m sure,” 

It turned out that it was not fine. Not even a little bit. 

When Kevin had casually mentioned that he wouldn’t be in the show that night whilst they were stood on the stage whilst Kevin was giving his parents a tour of the theatre. Both of his parents face dropped into the disappointed look that he was so used to being on the receiving end of. Thankfully, the stagehands that were rushing around behind them seemed too preoccupied to notice what was happening in front of them. 

“What’s the point in us even being here if you’re not on tonight?” his dad asked impatiently. 

“Because - because don’t you want to see the show?” Kevin asked pleadingly, “Aren’t you interested to know what I do?” 

“What, lounge around all day?” his dad scoffed. 

“I don’t lounge!” Kevin protested, “I just - it’s part of the job, alright?”

His mom sighed and shook her head, “I don’t see the point in us being here,” 

Kevin bit the inside of his lip, “Please see the show with me? I got us tickets! And they’re really good! They’re in the second row and-”

“I don’t think so. We’ll be doing some sightseeing, I think. Much less disappointing,” his dad said, “maybe you’d like to show us Wall Street? Where you _should_ be working?”

“I don’t want to work on Wall Street,” Kevin mumbled. 

“Don’t mumble,” his dad snapped, “Why don’t you just come back to Salt Lake City? Start afresh? There’s always time for-”

“Kevin! Fancy seeing you here!” 

Connor appeared at his shoulder and bumped hips with him, giggling as he did so. Kevin clenched his jaw and for once, it wasn’t because Connor was being annoying, it was because he didn’t want him to be subjected to any homophobic abuse that his parents might decide to send his way. 

“Well, I do...I do work here,” Kevin muttered. 

Connor bumped hips with him again, “Your sarcasm is never ending,” he looked over at the shocked faces of Mr and Mrs Price and gasped, “Is this mother and father Price?” 

Kevin cleared his throat, “This is, um...this is Connor. He plays Seymour,” 

“Ah, he’s the _better_ actor, is he?”

“What?” Connor asked, “No, I’m not...I’m not better. I saw Kevin’s cover run, he was really good. Made me cry,” 

His dad snorted, “And yet he spends his entire day sat backstage,” 

Kevin bit the inside of his lip and looked at the floor, feeling tears beginning to boil behind his eyes. He watched as Connor shifted his feet uncomfortably, his hands clenching and unclenching. 

“We were just saying that we think Kevin should come back to Utah. This acting thing obviously isn’t working out-“

“Oh, goodness, I’m feeling really ill,” Connor said suddenly, “Oh, no, really quite ill...” 

With no warning, Connor’s knees buckled and he fell straight into Kevin’s arms, groaning softly under his breath. 

Kevin almost stumbled under his weight, “Uh, Connor? Are you - Connor? Connor!” 

“Feel...ill...” he muttered, head lolling to the side, “rooms spinning...going....going dark...” 

One of the stagehands appeared in front of him, “ _Jesus._ Someone call an ambulan-”

“No!” Connor exclaimed, “No! Just...Just a cab home, please,” 

“Can you walk him to a cab?” One of the stagehands asked, “I’ll have to speak to the stage manager,”

Kevin nodded and slowly led Connor off the stage and out through the stage door. The moment the door shut behind them, Connor straightened up and smoothed his t-shirt down. 

“Well, that was fun,” Connor said, “walk with me to a cab?” 

“I - what - you just - _what_?” Kevin spluttered, blindly following him down the street. 

Connor turned to him and smiled, “I get it, okay? The disappointed parents thing. My mom is like...the _worst_ stage mom. She never saw a show where I was in the ensemble because it’s _below me_ or whatever. She didn’t even see my Broadway debut. It’s not fair. Your parents should see you in this. You’re a cute Seymour,” 

“Cute?” Kevin echoed numbly. 

“Cute,” Connor said, “it makes sense that Audrey would fall in love with him. I think _I_ fell in love with you,” 

They stopped on the sidewalk and Connor hailed a cab with a wink, “Break a leg, hon,” 

“Don’t call me hon...” he said weakly. 

“I think I deserve that one,” Connor grinned as he got into the cab, “See you tomorrow,”

Kevin stood on the sidewalk for a moment, watching as Connor’s cab disappeared out of sight. 

“What the _fuck_?”

It was a strange thing; to have the thing that you’d been thinking about for so long finally happen. Kevin was quite sure that he had blacked out the moment the Prologue started and didn’t come back to his senses until the very end of the shower when one of the ensemble members had shoved him onto stage so that he could bow. 

All he had been aware of the entire show was that he was sweating so much his glasses kept on sliding down his nose, he had almost dropped Audrey II twice and the way he had been holding Sarah - who played Audrey - whilst he was kissing her in Suddenly Seymour was nothing short of awkward. She had assured him that the audience would have seen this as him being in character, but Kevin was quite sure that he had just made it painfully awkward that he was gay and his experience with women was non-existent. 

“Fuck sake,” Kevin muttered to himself as he joined hands with Sarah to bow.

“What?” she whispered, “What’s wrong?” 

“You see that couple in the second row who aren’t applauding?” he asked, plastering a smile onto his face. 

“Oh, they look fun,” 

“Yeah, that’s my mom and dad,” he muttered, “Oh, god. I’m gonna start crying,” 

He somehow made it through the rest of the bows and the finale without sobbing. He even managed to be a functioning human at stagedoor and didn’t start crying in front of everyone when his dad told him that he and his mom were going back to their hotel without so much of a ‘ _Well done for your professional debut, son_ ’. Not that he had really been expecting a 'well done', he had done everything completely wrong and was expecting to get fired in the morning. He'd almost tripped over his own feet in the very first song, his spoken parts in Grow for Me had been nothing short of wooden and he'd forgotten to hand Sarah the tissue in Suddenly Seymour. 

Arnold stood at the very end of the stagedoor line, holding a Playbill out to him. 

“Sign my Playbill? You’re my favourite actor,” 

Kevin tutted and shoved his shoulder, “I just want to go home,” 

“You were really good, Kev,” Arnold said, “Sometimes I forgot how good you actually are at singing,”

“Thanks, bud,” Kevin mumbled, not really registering what he was saying to him, “Did my mom or dad say anything?” 

Arnold’s silence told him everything. Kevin scoffed and nodded his head. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” 

“Do you...do you want to go for a drink? Celebrate?” 

Kevin shook his head, “No, I’d rather just go home.” 

Arnold nodded, “Alright. Whatever you need, pal,” 

Usually, Kevin would stay up for a while after getting home from work, maybe watch some stupid show with Arnold or discuss where they were up to in their D&D game. Today, however, he just wanted to go to bed and try not to think about anything. 

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, his phone lit up with an Instagram notification. 

**ConnorPMcKinley - hope the show went okay!!! i saw pictures from the bows, your seymour is still unbelievably cute ;)**

**KPrice - My Seymour dropped Audrey II twice and can’t kiss women normally**

**ConnorPMcKinley - so you were in character for the whole show?**

**KPrice - My glasses kept on slipping down my nose**

**ConnorPMcKinley - mine fell into audrey ii last week when i was carrying sarah over to it**

**KPrice - :/ I almost dropped Sarah when I was carrying her to Audrey II**

**ConnorPMcKinley- hahahha i bet she loved you for that once**

**ConnorPMcKinley - did your parents enjoy the show?**

**KPrice - Nope.**

**ConnorPMcKinley - sorry dude**

**KPrice - Not your fault**

He woke up the next morning feeling a lot lighter than he had done when he had gone to bed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kevin’s favourite place in the whole word was his secret Starbucks. It wasn’t  _ really  _ a secret because it was always busy and sometimes he couldn’t get a table on his own, but it wasn’t anywhere near Broadway, which meant that there was little chance he was going to run into a fellow cast member and have his morning ruined with pointless conversation. 

“Trenta Cold Brew for Kevin?” 

“Thanks,” Kevin said, trying not to think of how his parents would react if they could see the amount of coffee that he was drinking. 

“Oh my god. You’ve found my secret Starbucks,” 

Kevin whirled around to see Connor, of all people, sat at a table on his own. 

“No, this is  _ my  _ secret Starbucks,” he said stupidly, “I come here so I don’t have to see anyone I know,” 

Connor grinned and gestured for him to sit down, “We have the same secret Starbucks! I used to call it the SS until my best friend pointed out that I probably shouldn’t,” 

Kevin smiled and sat down opposite him, trying not to look as awkward as he felt. The last time he and Connor had had a conversation in person was when his parents had been being their usual charming selves, and Kevin had been avoiding him ever since. Connor seemed like the type of person who happily conducts therapy sessions, and Kevin was not the type of person to have therapy sessions with an actual therapist, never mind a colleague. 

“By the way, I just want to - I want to say thank-you for the other night,” Kevin said, not quite making eye contact with him, “Seymours like...it’s well...it’s my dream role, so...thank-you, 

Connor grinned, “That’s ok! I heard you were great!” 

Kevin shrugged, “I don’t know. I can’t - I can’t really remember it. It’s a bit of a blur,” 

“Yeah, I get that,” Connor said, “I understudied Mr Mistoffeleese in Cats and the first time I went on for him I tripped Rum Tum Tugger up...in his song...on the actors last night in the show,” 

Kevin gasped, “You tripped him up in The Rum Tum Tugger?” 

“I have Hell Dreams about it,” Connor sighed. 

“What?” 

Connor blinked at him, “...Hell Dreams? I thought...I thought you were Mormon,” 

“No, I am, I just...I didn’t think you were,” Kevin said, “You seemed too, um....gay?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Kevin, but you are also gay,” 

Kevin glowered, “No, I mean like...your mom seems okay with it,” 

“She doesn’t know,” Connor said bluntly, “I got fixed,” 

“Fixed...?”

“As far as my mother is aware, two years at  _ Hope for Wholeness  _ fixed me and my demons,” Connor said with a sad smile, “once I’d finished and became the very heterosexual man you see before you, she was okay with the thought of me being an actor. I never did tell her that I hooked up with Rum Tum Tugger after I almost ruined his final performance,” 

Kevin looked down at his drink, “I’m sorry. I didn’t - I didn’t realise,” 

Connor shrugged, “It’s not something I like to shout about. How were your parents when you came out?” 

“Umm...we don’t talk about it. Not really,” Kevin said, “I tried to talk to my mom about it once when I broke up with my ex,” 

“How did that go?”

Kevin frowned, “She started singing a hymn to drown out my voice,” 

“Well,” Connor said, holding up his mug to Kevin, “Here’s to our mothers and our homosexuality,” 

Kevin sniggered as they clinked their cups, “To our mothers and our homosexuality,” 

* * *

Kevin stood outside of Connor’s dressing room, shifting from one foot to the other, holding a bag of pastries in his hand. All he had to do was knock, give him breakfast and then go on his merry way. So why could he not do the very simple task of raising his hand and knocking on the door? 

“Fucking hell, you’re annoying,” Kevin muttered to himself, finally finding it in himself to knock. 

“ _ Coooommmeeee innnnnnnn!”  _

“Uh...hey,” Kevin mumbled. 

Connor spun around in his chair and grinned, “Hi!” 

“I, uh, I saw on your Instagram story that you got in late last night and didn’t have time to get breakfast so I brought you some,” he said, speaking very quietly, “and coffee,” 

“Oh, wow, Kevin Price does have a heart, who’d have thought?” 

“Don’t push it. It’s back in hibernation now,” Kevin said, sitting down when Connor gestured for him to, “did you have a good night?”

“I went on a date,” Connor said, tearing a piece of croissant off and eating it, “he works on Wall Street and is rich as fuck. Didn’t pay for a single drink all night, hence why I was so drunk,”

“Do you...do you think you’ll see him again?”

Connor shrugged, “If he asks,” 

“Cool,” Kevin said, feeling strangely stung, “Yeah. Cool. Okay. Well...I will...see you around, good buddy!” he forced a laugh and then hurried out of the dressing room, the phrase ‘ _good buddy’_ echoing around his brain because _why_ did he say that? He wouldn’t even call Arnold that. 

When Kevin got to the standby room, it was thankfully empty. He collapsed down into his chair, his head in his hands. He didn’t have a crush. He didn’t have a crush. He didn’t have a crush. He just thought that Connor was nice. Yes, that was it. Connor was just nice, and Kevin liked nice people. 

He did  _ not  _ have a crush on Connor McKinley. 

* * *

A very strange - yet welcome? - development in Kevin’s life was that Connor McKinley was spending a lot more time with him. More specifically, in his _ apartment.  _ Ever so slightly confused, Kevin watched Arnold and Connor laughing hysterically as they did a dramatic reader of Arnold’s Book of Mormon play. 

“Have you read this, Kevin?” Connor asked, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“Oh, yeah. I - yeah,” he stumbled over his words, trying his very best to not notice the way that Arnold was looking at him funny, “Um..yeah,” 

“It’s just...it’s genius, Arnold.  _ Genius _ ,” Connor giggled (and Kevin’s heart did  _ not  _ skip a few beats), “Right, anyway, I should...I should get going to the theatre. You’re off today aren’t you, Kev?”

Kevin nodded, “Yup. I’m - uh...we’re going to see the show later. So, you know, don’t - don’t be shit!” 

Connor frowned at him, laughing slightly, “See you, later,” 

When the door swung shut behind him, Arnold turned to look at Kevin, “What the fuck was that?”

“What the fuck was what?” Kevin asked, trying to be as casual as possible. 

Arnold narrowed his eyes at Kevin and then gasped, “You have a crush!”

“ _ Shush!”  _ Kevin hissed, as though Connor would be able to hear, “I don’t - I don’t have a crush on him!” 

“You’re a great actor, but a terrible liar,” 

Kevin slumped forward into Arnold’s lap, “I don’t want to have a crush on him,”

“But you do, and that’s okay,” 

Kevin turned on his back to look up at Arnold, glowering at him, “That’s easy for you to say! You met your girlfriend in your first week of college! And you’re probably gonna get married and have like fifteen really cute kids and I’m just gonna die lonely having never made my Broadway debut,” 

“Hey, Kev, you know when I say that sometimes you do this thing where you take one minute problem and make it into a massive one?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re doing it now,” 

Kevin tutted and picked up one of their cushions, attempting to smother him with it. 

“You can’t try and suffocate me every time I try and talk about how you’re feeling, Kevin!” Arnold exclaimed, gasping for breath, “You’ve been single for nearly a year and there’s a very cute guy who you obviously like, and could very easily ask out on a date,” 

“It doesn’t matter how cute he is, he’s been going on dates with some guy. I’m too late,” Kevin mumbled, “Had I not been an absolute dick and assumed that the world owes me everything, I probably could have gotten in there faster,”

“Yeah, I bet you really want to get in Conn-”

“Finish that sentence and I will actually kill you,” 

“Completely understandable,” 

* * *

Kevin tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the show to start, and he was  _ not  _ impatient because he was so excited to see how adorable Connor was as Seymour. In fact, he didn’t even  _ care  _ that Connor was on, he would have been more than happy to see any of his understudies. In fact, he was so unbothered about who was going to play Seymour, that he turned to Arnold and told him this. 

“So you don’t care one bit?” Arnold asked. 

“Nope,” 

“Cool. I think Connor’s called out,” 

“ _ What?  _ No!” he exclaimed, snatching the playbill out of Arnold’s hands, trying to find the insert that will tell him who’s on instead, “How do you even know he’s - oh, you little shit,” Kevin hit him over the head with the playbill, “I don’t like you,” 

Arnold snorted, “You like Connor though, right?”

“Shut up,” Kevin muttered, “I don’t - I don’t like him. I just - I just think he’s...I just think he’s nice,” 

“You think he’s...nice?” 

“Yeah. Nice,” Kevin said, “I think he’s nice,” 

Arnold’s groan was drowned out by the Prologue starting, and Kevin was soon enraptured by Connor on stage to care much about the fact that Arnold was laughing at him. He did  _ not  _ get teary during Grow for Me, did not get irrationally angry at the woman next to him who was breathing too loud and he certainly didn’t keep on looking at Connor’s butt. 

It was only when Connor was so lovingly holding Sarah during Suddenly Seymour that Kevin realised that he was in deep, deep shit. Tears sprang to his eyes and he twisted his body away from Arnold, hiding his face from him. 

By the time the show had come to its end and Kevin couldn’t take his eyes off Connor through the bows, he decided the first thing he would do when he got home was to google how  _ not  _ to develop a crush on someone. 

* * *

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Kevin muttered when he walked into Starbucks, immediatley noticing Connor stood in line, “ _ fuck _ ,” 

Slowly, Kevin sidled up behind him, hoping that he would go unnoticed. After the horrific realisation that he had a not-quite-a-crush-but-would-like-to-take-him-out-to-dinner  _ thing  _ for Connor, he had dealt with it the healthiest way possible: by ignoring him. 

A badly timed and outrageously loud sneeze, however, caused Connor to jump and spin around, looking half annoyed, half amused. 

“Good Lord,  _ bless you,  _ I’ve never heard someone sneeze quite so - oh. Hi, Kevin,” 

Kevin forced a smile, “Hi,” 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you,” 

“Well, you know, I’ve been...I’m...uh...busy,”

Connor raised his eyebrows as though to say ‘I follow you on Instagram and your stories of you and Arnold laying around doing nothing suggest otherwise’ but instead just smiles at him, and Kevin’s eyes most certainly do  _ not  _ drop down to his lips. 

“Been up to much?” Connor asked, and Kevin could not understand how a line could move so slowly. 

“Oh, you know, just...helping Arnold with his play, the usual,” Kevin lied. 

In reality, he hadn’t so much as been helping Arnold with the play much, rather he had been distracting him by lying face down on the living room and groaning periodically. 

“Have you?” Kevin asked, suddenly remembering how to carry a conversation, “Been up to much, I mean?” 

Connor shrugged, “Not really. I went on another date with that guy. Remember the one I told you about?” 

“Oh.” Kevin said, “Cool. That’s...yep. That is - that’s great!” 

They ended up walking to the theatre together, and Kevin had to suffer through twenty minutes of listening to Connor tell him all about how Darren had taken him out to dinner, and had once again paid for everything. Kevin tried his very best to not think about how between student debt, rent, bills and everything else that he was paying for, he probably wouldn’t ever be able to pay for everything should he and Connor ever go on a date. 

Not that they would ever go on a date. Because Kevin didn’t like him like that. He just thought he was...nice. 

“See you later, Kev,” Connor said once they reached the theatre. 

Kevin waved, cursed himself for  _ waving,  _ of all things, and hurried to his dressing room. He burst through the door and was quite pleased to find it empty except for David. 

“Morning, Kev!” David said happily. 

“I’m fucked,” Kevin said numbly. 

“You’re fucked in the sense that your life is falling apart, you’ve been fucked or you want to be fucked?” David asked with a frown. 

“I think I might have a bit of a crush on Connor,” 

David nodded knowingly, “Ah. So you’re fucked in the sense your life is falling apart but you always want to be fucked,” 

Kevin shook his head and collapsed onto the sofa, screaming into a cushion. He felt David sit next to him and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on someone, Kevin,” 

“No, there is. The last person I had a crush on ended up being my boyfriend,” Kevin mumbled, looking up at him. 

David frowned, “And you’re complaining about that?” 

A memory of a darkened bedroom at a party he barely remembered and a whole lot of pain suddenly forced itself to the front of his mind and he curled up into a ball, clutching the cushion to his chest. 

“He - He wasn’t a nice person,” Kevin whispered, “he almost ruined my senior year,” 

A look of understanding washed over David’s face and he began to ran his fingers through Kevin’s hair, “Having a crush on someone doesn’t mean you have to be in a relationship with them, but just because your last boyfriend was a dick doesn’t mean Connor or - or any other man would be,” 

“I’m scared,” Kevin whispered, “it scares me. When I like someone. I don’t - I don’t like it,” 

“Have you...have you had a relationship since him?” 

Kevin shook his head, “Arnold says I push people away, even if - even if there’s no way I’d ever like them romantically,” 

“Arnold is right,” David said, “You’ve only just started texting me about non-work related stuff and we spend a ridiculous amount of time together,” 

“Sorry,” Kevin whispered, “I don’t mean to,” 

“It’s okay,” David said soothingly, “You don’t have to apologise. I understand,” 

If David noticed Kevin sobbing his way through Suddenly Seymour, he was nice enough to not mention it. 

* * *

Sometimes, being the only standby not on for a performance was soul crushing, other times, it was the best thing that could ever happen. And Kevin was certainly enjoying being the only one in the dressing room for once; he sat with his feet on the dressing table, his laptop balanced precariously on his knees as he watched a bootleg of  _ Wicked.  _

“Have I upset you, Kevin?”

Kevin jumped, his laptop almost falling to the floor as he whirled around in his chair to see Connor stood in the doorway of the room. 

“W-What?” Kevin asked, barely paying attention to anything other than the fact that Connor had no right looking so adorable in his costume. 

“Have I upset you?” Connor repeated. 

“Why would...why would you have upset me?” Kevin asked with a frown. 

“I don’t know. You just...you’ve seemed really distant these last couple of weeks and I know we got off to a bit of a rocky start but I...I thought we were friends,” Connor said, and Kevin couldn’t tell if he was red because he’d just finished Act 1 or because he was blushing. 

“No,” Kevin said hastily, “No, you’ve not - you haven’t upset me,” 

“Alright. Okay,” Connor said, though he didn’t seem convinced, “Just making sure...” he smiled and then pointed at his laptop, “Did you get that email off the producers?”

“Uh, I don’t - I don’t know. Why? What is it?”

Connor shrugged, “I don’t know. Some weird ‘for the fans’ thing. We’re doing little videos for the YouTube channel or something. I have no idea, but you’re in some of the videos. I’d check it out if I were you,” 

“Is it bad?” Kevin asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t know. Depends how you feel, I guess,” he said with a shrug, “See you later,” 

Kevin yanked his laptop towards him and pulled up his email, swearing at the top of his voice when he got to the end of it: 

“ **HI ALL!**

**Since ticket sales have been so good lately and we’re trying to keep that momentum going, we’re going to film a series of videos. These are:**

**> Role swaps - David as Seymour, Sarah as Audrey II etch. **

**> Covers of songs from different musicals - Seymour singing Waving Through a Window?**

**> Seymour x2 - Connor and Kevin singing Suddenly Seymour (the two of them can argue about whos who themselves). **

**If any of you have ANY ideas, let me know!**

**Any questions, just ask!”**

Kevin groaned and then looked up at the ceiling, “Hey, God, are you fucking with me or trying to help me? I don’t really know which one you’re doing, but I’d like you to stop either way,” 

* * *

“Excited, Kev?” 

Kevin glanced over at Connor and then looked away, pretending to be interested in the way the stagehand was setting up the camera for the video that had very quickly become the bane of his life; he had lost sleep over the thought of having to so lovingly gaze into Connor’s eyes whilst singing such a romantic song. Arnold was finding the whole thing quite amusing but had been kind enough to not laugh too much about the whole thing. 

“Um, yeah,” Kevin said. 

Connor rolled his eyes, “Please try and sound a little more enthusiastic about this,” 

Kevin felt his face flush slightly, “It’s easy for you to say, you’re not playing Audrey,” 

“It could be worse, they could have forced you into wearing the outfit,” Connor said, “though between you and me, I think you’d look good in a little black dress,” 

“Shut up,” Kevin mumbled, feeling his face heat up, “There is nothing in this world that could get me into a dress.” 

“What if I asked you really nicely?”

Kevin turned to glare at him, “Suggest to anyone that I wear the dress and I’m going to-”

“Boys!” the stage manager, Freya, called, “Are you ready?”

“Yep!” Connor said happily, making kissy faces at Kevin. 

“Grow up,” Kevin tutted, twisting away from him and reminding himself that this was only going to last four minutes, and he could just drink away the memory of it the moment he got home. 

In reality, it wasn’t so bad; Kevin was so focused on not messing up the words that he managed to forget that he was singing to the person he most definitely did not have a crush on. 

His first problem arose, however, when Connor cupped his cheek in a way that was far too romantic and leaned up to kiss him. Kevin’s mind went completely blank and he felt himself go slightly limp, one hand on Connor’s shoulder, the other clutching at the back of his shirt. 

“And...cut!...cut! Guys, you can - you can stop! We’ve stopped filming!”

Kevin’s eyes shot open and he pulled back from Connor, suddenly aware of the laughter from their castmates. Connor cleared his throat and took a step back, running a hand through his hair and smiling awkwardly. 

“So did we...did we get it?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Freya said with a chuckle, “We got it. Unless you want to go again? Make sure it’s perfect?” 

“No!” Kevin and Connor exclaimed in unison. 

Freya sniggered, “Alright, you’re both done for the day. You can go home,” 

Kevin had never jumped on the opportunity to go home so much in his life. He all but yelled his goodbyes and hurried from the stage, determined to get away without having to talk to Connor. 

“Hey! Kevin!” Connor called, grabbing his hand and pulling him back, “Are you alright? You seem a bit..spooked,” 

“I’m fine,” Kevin said, turning around again, “I just wanna go home,” 

“Kevin, we really should talk about-”

“I don’t want to,” Kevin said firmly, “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry, I just want to - I just want to go home,” 

Connor groaned, “Kevin, it’s painfully obvious that you like me, and I thought it was painfully obvious that I liked you!” 

“Pain - Painfully obvious?” Kevin spluttered, “You - You’ve been going on dates with some guy!” 

“Because I figured that you weren’t ready for a relationship but that kiss suggests otherwise!” Connor exclaimed. 

“That kiss did not suggest-”

“Kev, you  _ moaned _ ,” 

“I did not-”

“You moaned!” 

Kevin clenched his jaw, “I don’t - I don’t think going on a date would be a good idea. I don’t date other actors,” 

Connor rolled his eyes, “Seriously?” 

“Yes!” Kevin exclaimed, “Look, you met my parents, you saw what they’re like! I can’t just - I can’t just date anyone! If I brought you home, they’d complain because you were too gay and also have a better job than me! Do you know how much of a disappointment I am to them?”

“You’ve already thought about bringing me home?” Conor asked with a smirk. 

“Hey! No! Don’t - Don’t pick and choose from what I just said!” Kevin snapped. 

Connor sighed, “For fucks sake, Kevin, why do you care what they think?” 

“Because they’re my mom and dad!” Kevin exclaimed, “They expect me to be with a banker or something and be a lead on Broadway! That’s the only way they’ll think that I’m not a complete disappointment,” 

“You do realise that most people have to work up to their Broadway debut, right? It’s not often that someone's first job out of college is Broadway,” 

“That’s easy for you to say! You didn’t even go to college!”

“Yeah, I got lucky and got cast in a tour, but that - that didn’t mean that I never got rejected! I’ve been the standby and the understudy before, you know!” Connor said, an impatient note in his voice, “not that there’s even anything wrong with being the standby! If it weren’t for you, the show wouldn’t run!”

“That’s not - that isn’t the point! The point is that-”

“-the point is that you’re so up yourself you think that every casting director on Broadway should be begging you to join their show,” Connor snapped. 

“If you think I’m that much of a dick, why are you even asking me on a date?” Kevin asked furiously. 

“I’m not!” Connor yelled, “For fucks sake, I don’t know why I even tried to be friends with you. Everyone thought you were a dick, and they were right!” 

Kevin frowned and took a step back from him, “Everyone - Everyone thinks I’m a dick?” 

“And you’re surprised?” Connor scoffed, “You act like you're God’s gift to musical theatre and turn your nose up everytime we tried to invite you somewhere!” 

Kevin clenched his jaw, feeling tears start to brim behind his eyes. He had never been under the impression that he was anyone's favourite colleague, but he didn’t think that he was so disliked by everyone. 

Connor suddenly looked ashamed of himself, as though he knew that he’d crossed a line,  “Kev-”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it,” he muttered. 

He turned on his heel and walked straight out of the stage door, seriously considering, for the first time, going back to Salt Lake City and starting again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

“So you got a part in your dream show, have played your dream role, and now you want to _quit_?” Arnold asked impatiently. 

Kevin groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He had known that Arnold would take this news badly, but he didn’t think it would take it so badly. They had been having a quiet argument about it in Starbucks for almost an hour, and Kevin was gripped with the fear that Connor was going to walk in.  It had been four days since their argument, and Kevin had not been to work since, lying about a quite terrible bout of the flu. 

“I don’t want to work there anymore,” Kevin said, just as impatiently, “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you!” 

“Because for the five years that I’ve known you, you have constantly talked about acting professionally and now that you’ve got there, you want to _quit_?” Arnold snapped, “What aren’t you telling me, Kev? Why haven’t you been at work?” 

“I told you. I scheduled a week off and-”

Arnold scoffed, “No, you didn’t. You never schedule days off work. Stop lying to me!”

Kevin groaned and slouched in his seat slightly, staring down at his coffee, “I - no one likes me,” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course they-”

“Connor told me that everyone thinks I’m a dick,” Kevin muttered, feeling tears starting to boil behind his eyes again. 

“What?” Arnold asked softly. 

Kevin furiously wiped his eyes and looked back up at Arnold, “Why would I want to work somewhere where no one likes me?” 

Arnold frowned, “I don’t even understand why he said that to you,” 

Kevin blushed as he explained the story behind that stupid video (that had gone  _ viral _ ), and the argument that he and Connor had afterwards just because Kevin had freaked out over a kiss that they had both wanted. Arnold, as always, was patient as anything as Kevin rambled at him. 

“And I just - I just don’t see the point in staying there,” Kevin mumbled. 

Arnold sighed, “If it’s really making you that unhappy-” 

“It is,” 

“-then I guess there’s no point in you staying but...” he trailed off, his voice uncertain, “I thought you said there was a possibility this was gonna move to Broadway?”

“It is,” Kevin said, “They’re - they’re announcing the transfer tomorrow...” 

Arnold frowned, “You’re giving up the chance of making your Broadway debut just because of  _ one _ argument? All you’ve ever wanted is to be on Broadway and-”

“I know, I know,” Kevin said hurriedly, “and it - it is all I’ve ever wanted but I don’t want it to be with this company! What’s the point in working somewhere where no one likes me?" 

"I can't argue with that," Arnold sighed. 

* * *

Kevin’s final show was neither bitter nor sweet. Connor had been kind enough to step aside for one show to give Kevin one final stint as Seymour, but for the first time, being on stage and playing his favourite role didn’t give the same thrill. 

When he took his final bow and was presented with flowers by Sarah, it didn’t feel genuine. Especially considering she had barely batted an eyelid when he had told her that he was leaving. She had uttered a very simple 'oh' and turned back to her phone. He had simply taken the flowers off her with a tiny smile and waved at the audience one last time, as though they even cared about him. 

“Well done on a great run,” one of the ensemble members said to him as he walked off stage. 

“It was barely a run,” Kevin said, “I only went on like five times,” 

Deep down, he knew he was being a dick and that he could have just been polite, but what was the point? They were no longer colleagues, he no longer had to grin and bear inane conversations with people he knew didn't like him. 

Kevin slowly packed up his last few belongings. There was going to be no leaving party; he had asked for there to not be one and no one had tried to fight him on it. 

“Hey,” 

Kevin glanced over his shoulder to see Connor leant against the doorway, his arms folded. 

“Why are you here?” Kevin asked. 

“I wanted to see your last show,” Connor said, “it was good. You were good,”

Kevin slung his backpack over his shoulder, “Thanks,” 

“So, you got a new gig?” 

Kevin nodded, because he technically did, “Yup,” 

“A show that I know?” 

“Nope,” Kevin said, “Not a show,” 

“Oh. Film? Television?” 

“Not acting,” Kevin said, “back to the coffee shop for me,” 

“Oh,” Connor muttered, “Oh. I - I sorta feel like it’s my fault?”

“I know you think I’m big headed, but at least I’m not so far up my own ass that I think someone is leaving a job because of them,” Kevin snapped. The last thing that he had wanted was there to be a big song and dance about him leaving, and Connor just had to come along and fuck that up for him. 

Connor took a step back from him, his holding his hands up, “I just - I wanted to say goodbye,” 

“Okay,” Kevin said, “Bye,” 

“I also, um - I wanted to tell you that I’m not going to Broadway with the show,” Connor said, “I, um...West Side Story is going back to Broadway and uh-”

“You’re playing Tony?” 

Connor nodded, “Yeah...so, uh...I think - I think you might have been the principal Seymour...” 

Kevin stared at him for a moment and then turned his back on him, “Break a leg in West Side Story, Connor,” 

* * *

Since he had left the shittiest coffee shop in New York, it had been renovated. And it had upgraded from the shittiest coffee shop in New York to the shittiest, most _expensive_ coffee shop in New York. The prices had gone up to the point where Kevin felt bad for charging people so much and he tried his best to not think about how they were soon opening another branch somewhere where he knew their cheapest drink was more than what some people earned in an hour. 

The renovations had, at least, stretched to the break room and on his first day back, Kevin had found a nice little nook that he could hide in when he wasn’t out on the shop floor; a comfy sofa in the very corner that was easily overlooked. And he was in his little nook when he discovered that Little Shop had been nominated for Best Revival and that Alfie, Connor’s replacement, had been nominated for Best Actor.  Connor had been nominated in the same category, too. 

Kevin stared down at the name Alfie James, written next to the award that he should have been nominated for. He chewed on the inside of his lip, trying his very best to not think about how different things might have been if he hadn’t acted so irrationally. He could be somewhere celebrating his dreams coming true, and  _ not  _ making coffee for stuck up hipsters who never tipped. 

“Hey, buddy!” Arnold said brightly, making as much noise as he always did when he walked into a room, “Whatcha doing?” 

Kevin mumbled something non-committal under his breath before he dropped his phone to the table and looked up at Arnold, “Do you need me back out there?” 

“Nah,” Arnold said, sitting in the chair opposite him, “Stay in here for a bit longer,” 

Kevin frowned, “Dude, you’re assistant manager! Start acting like it,” 

“Fine,” Arnold said, rolling his eyes, “Go clean the tables,” 

“No,” 

Arnold threw his hands in the air, “What the heck do you want from me then, Kev?” 

Kevin shrugged and turned back to his phone, opening Instagram just as the Little Shop account posted a cast picture to celebrate the Tony nominations. Kevin stared down at it, slightly shocked that they had chosen a picture of the Off-Broadway cast. In a way that might have been slightly egotistical, Kevin’s eyes were immediately drawn to himself; he was stood at the very edge of the group, a small gap between himself and the person he was standing next to. He supposed it had always been painfully obvious that he was no one's favourite colleague. 

“You alright, Kev?” Arnold asked quietly. 

Kevin nodded and closed Instagram, shoving his phone back into his pocket, “Yeah. I’m fine,” 

Arnold did that slow nod, the one where it’s painfully obvious that he doesn’t believe a thing that he’s saying. 

“Fine,” Kevin snapped, “Remember that guy who took over from Connor-” 

“-the guy who stole the role that was rightfully yours?”

Kevin sighed, “He didn’t - he didn’t  _ steal -  _ it doesn’t matter. He got nominated for a Tony, the  _ same  _ Tony that Connor got nominated for. Imagine if I’d have stayed at the show? I might have been nominated for a Tony right now!” 

Arnold reached across the table and put his hand over Kevin’s, “Hey, Kev, you’re spiralling. Just because you didn’t get it this time doesn’t mean you’re never gonna get it. Your time will come and all that,” 

“Yeah, I know,” Kevin said, massaging his temples, “I know, I’m being dramatic, like always,” 

“Why don’t you text him?” Arnold said casually. 

“Who?” Kevin asked, deciding that playing dumb was the safest bet for him. 

“You know who I mean,” 

“I’m not texting him,” 

“It’s not hard to pick up your phone and-”

“I said I’m not texting him,” 

“Why don’t you send him a letter? Or a pigeon?” 

“You’re annoying me so much, I’m going to go and clean the tables,” 

“Yeah, I have that effect on people,” 

* * *

  
  


He and Arnold had their own little Tony viewing party like they did every year with Nabulungi, despite the fact that Kevin wasn’t even sure if he wanted to watch it or not. Watching Alfie and Sarah sing Suddenly Seymour was very strange, and he couldn’t decide if it was because he wanted it to be him, or because it was strange that it wasn’t Connor. 

When Connor won the Tony, Kevin wasn’t really sure how he felt. He was almost certain that a part of him was happy; after all, someone who he had considered a friend had achieved something amazing. But he was quite sure that he also felt relief, because had he stayed on at Little Shop, he knew he wouldn't have reacted well to losing. And he _definitley_ wouldn't have reacted well to losing to Connor. 

“Do you think I would have won?” Kevin asked quietly. 

Nabulungi looked over at him, “You’re a very good actor, Kevin,” 

“I guess...” Kevin muttered. 

“Stop beating yourself up about leaving. It was the right thing for you to do,” she said, "You know it was," 

“I could have made my Broadway debut and been nominated for a _Tony_. I might have - I might have even won!” Kevin exclaimed, “and now I’m just working in a shitty coffee shop. You know, yesterday I was on the register and a girl asked me if we knew eachother and I said that I didn't recognise her, and then she went, “Oh, I saw you in Little Shop as Seymour!” and then she looked at me and went, “What happened?” Do you know how soul crushing that is?”

“This is one _tiny_ setback, Kev,” Arnold said, “You’ll be back on your feet in no time!” 

Kevin shook his head, “No, it isn’t! This is the first time I’ve ever failed at something, Arn! I’ve never not been the best at something that I’ve done! I’ve always got everything that I wanted and now I’ve - now I’ve missed out on a Tony nomination! I could have won! I could have proved to my parents that this was the right thing for me to do and-”

"You've got nothing to prove to your parents, Kev," Arnold said firmly, "You know you don't," 

“Maybe it’s what needed to happen,” Nabulungi said, “You needed to learn that no one owes you anything,” 

“But I worked  _ so  _ hard,” Kevin said, a little desperatley, “All I’ve ever done is work and work and  _ work  _ and I’m still not where I want to be! I’m not - I’m not even close!"

Arnold cleared his throat, shifting a little in his seat, “Well, that’s not - that’s not entirely true. Remember that play I was writing?” 

“The weird Mormon one?” Kevin asked. 

“Yup!” Arnold said brightly, “Remember that producer who came into college that one time? Gary Goodwin?” 

“Weird eyebrows?” 

Arnold nodded, “ _ Very  _ weird eyebrows. Anyway, I might have gotten slightly drunk the other night and convinced myself that emailing him the script would be a good idea. Turns out, it  _ was  _ a good idea because I have a meeting with him where he wants to do a reading,” 

Kevin grinned, “ _ Seriously?  _ Dude, that’s amazing!” 

“ _ Aaaand,  _ I contacted some friends from college for the other parts but I still need a leading man,” Arnold said, "So you're obviously going to say yes, right?"

“Me?” Kevin asked, “You want me to do it?” 

Arnold rolled his eyes, “Obviously. Plus, I named him after you,” 

Kevin glowered at him, “You named him Kevin?” 

“Technically he's called Elder Price,” Arnold said.

“But that character is - he’s a dick!” Kevin exclaimed, “He thinks he’s God's gift to the universe!” 

Arnold shrugged, “You won’t have to dig deep then, will you? I knew you when you were nineteen. You were a dick who thought you were God's gift to the universe,” 

Kevin tutted and hit him around the head, “Shut up,” 

* * *

Three years after that conversation on Tony night, Kevin sat in his Broadway dressing room with Arnold after the opening show of  _ Latter Day Saints: The Play.  _ Arnold poured him a glass of champagne, giggling hysterically at the fact that he saw two different couples walk out at the end of Act 1. Kevin didn’t think that four people walking out of the show were the sort of reviews that they were aiming for, but Arnold seemed thrilled about it and Kevin didn’t want to be the person to take his happiness away. 

“So,” Kevin said, grinning at Arnold through his mirror, “How does it feel being one of the youngest playwrights in Broadway history?” 

Arnold shrugged, “Dunno. Pretty cool, I guess,” 

Kevin laughed as he smoothed his hair back into place and obsessively straightened his tie, “I think the press are going to hate you,” 

“Why?” Arnold asked, sounding genuinely offended. 

“Because that was the worst answer you could have given,” Kevin snorted, “Do you know how many people are going to ask you that question tonight?” 

“Do you think I’ll get in trouble if I say ‘dunno’ to every question?” Arnold asked. 

“Try it. See what happens,” 

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur; Kevin couldn’t focus on much apart from the fact that Arnold was indeed answering questions with variations of ‘dunno’ and he very nearly started doing it himself. It was quite a relief when he finally got off the red carpet, if not just so he stopped worrying about whether Arnold could ruin his career with terrible red carpet etiquette. 

It was around 2 AM when Kevin finally managed to pull himself away from a woman who didn’t seem to understand that he was gay. Even after he had sat her down and explained that he was very much homosexual and felt no attraction to women at all, she had waved her hotel key in front of his face and promised him a ‘fun time’. 

Desperate to get as far away from this woman as humanly possible, he hurried over to the bar and ordered a glass of wine that he probably wouldn’t drink. He might not have been Mormon anymore, but he still wasn’t very good at drinking alcohol. And he  _ definitely  _ wasn’t very good at drinking wine if the way he gagged the moment it hit the back of his throat was anything to go by. 

“You know the really cheap, fruity wine is much better to drink than whatever you're drinking right now?” 

“Huh?” Kevin said, looking over his shoulder, “It’s only a small glass so I can - oh,” he faltered slightly when he realised that Connor was standing a little way away from him, holding up a glass of wine. 

“This is much nicer,” he said, looking over at the barman and ordering him a glass. 

“You don’t need to order me a-” 

“Opening night present,” Connor interrupted, handing him the glass, “Congratulations, by the way,” 

Kevin smiled and took a sip of the wine out of politeness, and was pleasantly surprised when he realised that it didn’t make him want to throw up like almost every other alcoholic in existence. 

“I’m sorry everything ended so badly at Little Shop,” Connor said, “That argument we had, it was - it was stupid. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you,” 

“Nah,” Kevin said, shaking his head, “You were right. I was a dick and I shouldn’t have seen being a Standby as below me, because it wasn’t. I don’t think I was ready to be a fulltime lead,” 

Connor raised his eyebrows, “Who are you and what have you done to Kevin Price?” 

“I took him therapy and cut his parents out of his life,” Kevin said, “and realised that no one owes me anything. So, I’m - I’m sorry that you had to work with someone like me,”

“I didn’t mind,” Connor said, taking a small step towards him, “You were a cute Seymour. You really suited those glasses,” 

Kevin bit the inside of his lip as he made the gap between them even smaller; his heart was pounding in his chest, convinced that he was reading the signals completely wrong and that one wrong move would cause Connor to throw his drink in his face.  Connor looked at him and frowned, his eyes flickering to somewhere over his shoulder and Kevin immediately backed up, his cheeks turning pink. 

“You are gay, aren’t you?” Connor asked. 

“Um...yes?” Kevin said, “It hasn’t - It hasn’t, uh...it’s hasn’t changed,” 

“Then why is there a woman pointing at you and mouthing ‘He’s mine’?” Connor asked. 

Kevin risked a glance over his shoulder and groaned, “She’s been following me around all night and trying to get me into her hotel room,” 

“Why don’t you just tell her you’re gay?”

“I have!” Kevin exclaimed, “Like five times! She won’t leave me alone!” 

Connor burst into laughter and took Kevin’s hand, tugging him forwards and slid his arm around his waist, his hand coming to rest on the small of his back. Kevin felt his cheeks heat up even more and suddenly didn’t know where to look, so settled on Connor’s lips - which he was almost certain counted as flirting. 

“Can I kiss you?” Connor asked quietly, “Just to, um...just to _demonstrate_ what being gay is to that very drunk lady?” 

Kevin cleared his throat and nodded, “Uh, yes. It is - It is important that she understands what being gay is,” 

Connor smiled and leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of them. Kevin's hands scrambled to grip onto the back of his shirt as his mind went completley blank. He would have happily stayed there for the rest of the night if not for the fact that two different screams tore them apart.  Still gripping onto Connor, Kevin whipped around to see the drunk woman looking like she was ready to commit a felony and Arnold grinning from ear to ear. Kevin immediately jumped back from Connor, smiling awkwardly and smoothing down his shirt. 

“You go get that dick, Kevin!” Arnold yelled for the entire room to hear, “You deserve it!” 

“Thank-you for that, Arn,” Kevin said weakly. 

Arnold gave him the thumbs up, very much looking like he was the one who had just been making out with the person he had (not so) secretly been pining after for years. Kevin groaned and turned back to Connor, who seemed to be finding the whole thing quite funny. 

“I am  _ so  _ sorry about him,” Kevin said, “He never thinks before he speaks. I don’t - I’m not expecting to get laid, I swear. I just-”

“It’s okay,” Connor laughed, taking his hand, “Do you, um, do you maybe want to go somewhere where you’re not being stalked by drunk women and your best friends?” 

“ _ Please _ ,” Kevin muttered, “I think I’m gonna die of embarrassment,” 

Connor grinned, “How does McDonalds sound?” 

“Buy me chicken nuggets and you have a date,” 

Connor raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, “Who said anything about a date?” 

Kevin's face dropped, his eyes widening. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, taking a step back from Connor and dropped his hand.  _ This  _ was the reason he didn’t do the whole dating thing. He could never read signals properly and it always ended up with him missing out on dates or looking like a complete creep. 

“That was a joke,” Connor said quickly, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have - I am - that was actually me asking you out on a date,” 

“Oh,” Kevin said, “Oh, right. Sorry, I haven’t been on a date for a while. I've forgotten how to act, I think,” 

Connor took his hand again, “Let’s go change that then,” 

If their night ended with them drunkenly singing Suddenly Seymour, no one needed to know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update!! Thank-you for reading!!  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be one chapter, but here we are


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